By Owen Foulkes, Rhode Center Civil Justice Fellow
On April 28, the Rhode Center co-hosted a lunch talk with Elizabeth Cabraser and Annie Wanless of Lieff, Cabraser, Heimann & Bernstein, LLP, co-lead counsel in the sprawling litigation over harms from toxic water at Camp Lejeune. Their message was clear: This case is about more than the law. It’s about institutional responsibility and whether the justice system can deliver for those it has long ignored.
From 1953 to 1987, the drinking water at Camp Lejeune—a major Marine Corps base in North Carolina—was laced with highly toxic chemicals. The contamination affected not just service members, but their families and civilian workers. Although the government discovered the contamination in 1982, it failed to notify those exposed until years later, after North Carolina’s statute of repose had expired. For many, the truth came too late.
In response, Congress passed the bipartisan Camp Lejeune Justice Act (CLJA) in 2022. The law created a new federal cause of action allowing anyone exposed to contaminated water at the base for 30 days or more to bring suit against the federal government after first filing an administrative claim with the Navy. Critically, it lowered the standard of proof: Plaintiffs need only show that their condition was at least as likely as not caused by the contamination. Though the window to file claims closed in August 2024, more than 400,000 were submitted. Roughly 3,000 lawsuits are now pending in the Eastern District of North Carolina, where the court has grouped diseases into tracks and selected bellwether plaintiffs, in a process modeled loosely on multi-district litigation.
As Elizabeth Cabraser put it, the CLJA is “a quilt”—a statute stitched together from elements of federal tort law, administrative procedure, and environmental regulation. But while the law was designed to remove barriers, litigation challenges remain. Expert discovery is underway, with both sides preparing for Daubert hearings to determine which expert testimony will be admitted. In a twist, the government is now challenging studies conducted by its own agency, the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry (ATSDR), that linked water contamination to many serious illnesses. Another battle looms over the right to a jury trial. Although the CLJA says nothing in it “shall impair” that right, courts so far have ruled that plaintiffs are not entitled to jury trials. A petition for certiorari is now pending before the Supreme Court to reverse those rulings.
Behind the thousands of claims are aging veterans and family members, many of whom lack the resources, health, and time for a prolonged process. Litigating against the federal government brings distinct hurdles: Unlike corporate defendants, the government isn’t influenced by market pressures or standard reputational risk. This slows settlement negotiations and reduces transparency. Although Congress envisioned swift relief, few individual settlement offers have been made. A global framework is supposed to be ready by year’s end—but for many claimants, time is running out.
For the law students in the audience, Cabraser and Wanless offered a lesson in the real-world challenges of complex litigation. Camp Lejeune raises complex questions about how our legal system handles historical harm, scientific uncertainty, and government accountability. Whether or not the CLJA fulfills its promise, the litigation is already shaping how the next generation of advocates will think about civil justice.
